


this must be how it feels

by ho_sehun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dog/Human Hybrids, Hybrids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ho_sehun/pseuds/ho_sehun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol has come to expect this kind of life, the one of the unwanted hybrid. Then comes Do Kyungsoo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this must be how it feels

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Así debe ser como se siente **Traducción**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597635) by [RilaPark_00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RilaPark_00/pseuds/RilaPark_00)



Chanyeol jingles the change in his pocket. He doesn't ask for money, but usually enough people feel bad enough when they see a homeless dog sitting on the sidewalk that he can gather the money for a cheap meal or a cup of something warm from time to time. Oddly enough, he'd noticed that none of the cats he comes across from time to time seem to get the same treatment.

Over the course of the day he'd saved up enough to buy something and decided on a warm drink over a sandwich right away. It's not winter yet, but the nights have been getting colder and he could use the warmth. Besides, there's an ahjumma who works in a restaurant with a back door that leads into his alley. She's always kind to him and slips him whatever leftover rice they have – sometimes even some pickles – so he at least has that to look forward to.

He steps up to the counter.

“Could I have a small hot chocolate, please?” He doesn't look up until a few seconds pass with no reply. When he does, he meets a face of a barista with her lip pulled up and her eyes narrowed.

“I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” she says.

“I have money,” he promises, pulling the coins and a couple of bills out of his pocket. “I can pay. I just…”

“I'm not going to serve you,” she cuts him off.

“Why not?” he says. “I promise there's enough here. I counted.”

She huffs out a laugh. “We don't allow dogs in here without a leash.”

Chanyeol's tail curls between his legs and he takes one, two steps backwards quickly, stuffing the money back in his pocket. He turns around and heads out as quickly as he can. Before reaching the door he knocks into a shorter man. He bows deep at the waist and apologizes, but doesn't stop his quick exit.

What he just experienced is technically not legal, he knows, but there's nothing he can really do about it. He knows it and the woman knows it and he can't even bring himself to feel wronged as he slides down the wall in his usual alley. He scrubs his hands over his face.

The sound of nearby footsteps makes him look up. It's a progression: first his ears perk up (as well as they can, considering how they hang on either side of his head in a flop), then his tail presses harder against his body, then finally he brings his eyes from the ground to ...

A cup belonging to the cafe held right in front of his face.

"It's for you," the man attached to the hand holding the cup says. "A hot chocolate, right?"

"I ... thank you." Chanyeol doesn't know what else to say, so he begins to dig in his pocket. "I have money, I can pay you for it."

"No need," the man says as he kneels down until his face is level with Chanyeol's. His eyes are wider than any human he's ever seen. Wider than any hybrid's, for that matter, and Chanyeol almost feels uncomfortable under the weight of the other's gaze.

"I don't need to take your hand-outs," Chanyeol says. "I have the money to pay you back."

The man sets the cup on the ground between them, close to Chanyeol than to himself. "I was able to get it for free."

Chanyeol tilts his head to the side. He can feel his ear hang in a way that is much cuter than he wants to appear right now, so he tries to raise an eyebrow look quizzical. Unfortunately, he can't raise an eyebrow.

"Once I offered to introduce her and her company to a few of my hybrid rights lawyer friends, she was in a much more giving mood," the man explains.

"Ah," Chanyeol says, smartly. In that case ... He grabs the cup from the ground and presses his fingers tight against it, trying to leech some of the warmth into his body. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," the man replies. And Chanyeol figures that for him it probably really _was_ nothing. He takes a sip of the chocolate and tries not to dwell on the fact. "Do you have a jacket or anything?" He asks after a few seconds of Chanyeol reveling in the warmth of the drink. "The news said there would be a big temperature drop tonight."

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," Chanyeol answers against his cup. "I can find a jacket tomorrow or something."

The man doesn't leave. "Come with me," he says, eventually. "I have a spare room and some clothes that would fit." This time, Chanyeol raises both eyebrows. The nerve of some people.

"I also have food and a shower."

Chanyeol's immediate 'no' dies in his mouth. A shower does sound nice. But.

"What is it you want from me?" He asks, pulling away from the man just a little bit. "I don't know what you think, man, but I'm not a prostitute."

"Do Kyungsoo," the man says, and it takes Chanyeol a second to realize that the stranger is giving him his name. "And I didn't assume that at all." He drops from kneeling down to sitting on his ass on the dirty alley. He's going to get crap all over the seat of his pants, but Chanyeol doesn't bother to warn him. "It's just, I have the ability to keep you from freezing and getting sick tonight. What kind of person would I be if I didn't offer to help out?"

A normal one, Chanyeol wants to say. But what Chanyeol _really_ wants is a hot meal and a shower. He's still wary, though. He takes another sip of his hot chocolate.

“You don't even have to stay the night,” Kyungsoo says. “Just eat something and let me give you a jacket. You can figure out what you want to do then.”

Chanyeol tries to take another drink of his chocolate and meets nothing. Without the drink, the meager warmth he'd gathered seeps away and he feels the chill shiver down his spine. His tail relaxes and he nods.

Kyungsoo smiles; it's a nice, heart-shaped smile that helps chase the chill away just a bit. He stands and holds out his hand. Chanyeol allows himself to be pulled up, even though he stands head and shoulders over the other when he reaches his full height.

“My apartment's just down the road a bit, this way,” Kyungsoo says, touching Chanyeol's elbow, just lightly enough to guide him before dropping both hands to his side. “What should I call you?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol answers, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. He pulls his elbows in and watches the ground as they walk. For every step that he takes, Kyungsoo takes two. He tries to shorten each stride.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo doesn’t reach out to shake his hand, just pulls his keys out of his pocket and shifts through them until he grabs the right one. The jingle ting-ting they make is distracting and Chanyeol’s fingers twitch against the threadbare material in his pants. He pushes his hands even farther down in his pockets.

Chanyeol wants to warn Kyungsoo about taking his keys out so soon; he’s seen people get their keys snatched out of their hands, their wallets grabbed in the ensuing struggle. Before he can gather up the courage to even open his mouth though, Kyungsoo’s hand is on his elbow, light as air, guiding him to the staircase of an older apartment building.

“We’re right here,” Kyungsoo says, needlessly, but Chanyeol appreciates the direction. He follows Kyungsoo up the stairs. They pass a couple of people, a boy who looks like he could be about high school age and a middle aged woman who gives Kyungsoo a warm smile and a greeting when they pass. Neither gives Chanyeol more than a cursory glance, like Kyungsoo takes in stray hybrids every day. Hell, maybe he does; maybe Chanyeol is walking into the lion’s den right now. But, the more he thinks about a warm, _fresh_ meal and a shower to clean off the grime of life the more he wants.

So instead, he picks at the loose threads at the inside of his pockets and wiggles his pinkey through the hole that’s worn through the denim as he follows Kyungsoo down the hall to the door of his apartment. He keeps his hands in place as he toes his shoes off in the entryway.

“Here,” Kyungsoo says, from deeper in the apartment. Chanyeol follows the sound of his voice and finds the shorter man pulling a towel out of the hall closet. “The bathroom’s down this way.” He leads Chanyeol further down the hall to the door on the end. The bathroom is supposed to be welcoming, with it’s soft cream and blue color scheme, but all Chanyeol can think is how he’ll probably rub dirt off on the pristine surfaces. Kyungsoo sets the towel on the counter.

“I’ll go grab you some clothes,” Kyungsoo says, “go ahead and start getting the shower ready if you want.” He takes off. Chanyeol stands, stiff, in the middle of the room. He doesn’t want to move his feet, afraid of seeing footprints underneath. He doesn’t move until Kyungsoo returns, a whole set of clothes in his hands.

“Oh,” he says when he sees Chanyeol still where he left him.

“I don’t want to ruin your curtain,” Chanyeol explains. The way Kyungsoo looks at him hurts, almost, too much like understanding, except there’s no way that he can understand. Chanyeol doesn’t want to look into Kyungsoo’s wide eyes, but he can’t really look away. Then Kyungsoo smiles.

“I can clean the curtain,” he says, even as he pulls the curtain to the side and starts the water running. He holds his hand under the spray, then jerks his head toward the shower. “Stick your hand in,” he says, “let me know if it’s too cool.”

Chanyeol shuffles over and does as asked. It feels perfect and he smiles back at Kyungsoo; the corners of his mouth shake.

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, stepping back to head for the door. “Take as long as you need, I’ll go ahead and start on some food. Is _juk_ okay? I don’t want to make something that will upset your stomach.”

“ _Juk_ sounds great,” Chanyeol answers. Kyungsoo goes to close the door. “Wait!” Chanyeol doesn’t realize that he’d actually spoken until Kyungsoo stops and turns to look at him.

Chanyeol worries the hem of his shirt. “Why do you care so much?” Chanyeol finally asks. “Why are you trying so hard? You’re acting like you do this all the time.”

There’s the heart-shaped smile again. It really shouldn’t put Chanyeol at ease, but it does.

“I _do_ do this all the time,” Kyungsoo says. “Shower now, I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. There’s soap and shampoo you can use in the tub.” Then he closes the door behind him and leaves Chanyeol alone in the bathroom.

Chanyeol starts to take his shirt off, but when he catches his reflection in the mirror he turns to face the shower. He already knows he probably looks dirty and pitiable, he doesn’t want to actually be faced with it. Instead, as he pushes off his dirty pants, socks and underwear, he keeps his attention on the water falling from the showerhead. It’s almost too much to believe that he’s actually being allowed the use of this stranger’s shower. Even harder to think there might be some warm _juk_ waiting for him when he gets out. He stops just short of pinching himself and instead steps under the spray.

The water almost feels too hot at first, drops hitting Chanyeol’s surely-sunburned skin like knives. He stands still under the water until his body gets used to it, then looks around for the soap Kyungsoo had mentioned. It’s not hard to find when he turns away from the water. In a caddy hanging in the back corner of the tub is a handful of bottles. The soap is nestled between one bottle of regular shampoo on the left and about three different bottles of hybrid shampoo on the right. Apparently Kyungsoo hadn’t been lying about doing this all the time.

Chanyeol grabs the soap. He considers squirting it onto his hands and just using it like that, but he feels dirty down to his bones and he knows that way won’t leave him feeling any cleaner, so he grabs a washcloth hanging on the bottom of the caddy and resolves to buy Kyungsoo a new one as soon as he earns enough money again.

He scrubs his skin roughly with the cloth. The soap suds go onto his skin pure white and drip off greyish brown. Chanyeol tries not to move around too much as he washes to hopefully keep all the runoff in a contained area, but he’s a pretty big guy and his elbows keep knocking into the wall and the curtain. Sometimes he loses track of his tail until he realises he’s shaking it and sending dirty water everywhere. 

When he finally finishes washing, he looks straight down at the cloth in his hands. It’s almost as dirty as his clothes were, despite the fact that he kept rinsing it out. He’s also standing in a dwindling pool of dirty water. He watches for a few seconds as it swirls down the drain and leaves the porcelain of the tub unblemished. If only he could be like that, he thinks before grabbing for the dog hybrid shampoo that he’d seen earlier.

His hair, ears and tail get the same treatment as his skin with his nails scraping in an attempt to clear out the sweat and dust and misery that has settled between the follicles over time.

By the time he steps out, he doesn’t feel new, but he does feel clean. And for Chanyeol, that’s all that really matters for his immediate future.

 

\---

The first thing Chanyeol smells when he steps out of the bathroom is the _juk_ , which is a little odd to him considering there’s no way he’d been in the shower for more than thirty minutes, tops. But sure enough, when he finds his way to the kitchen Kyungsoo is standing in front of the stove. He’s changed into more comfortable loungewear, an all black outfit that makes him look even smaller as he stirs the pot on the stove.

“Um,” he says, not sure how to get Kyungsoo’s attention. If he’s focused on cooking, Chanyeol doesn’t want to startle him or anything.

Kyungsoo turns around. “You’re done!” He says. He catches sight of the dirty clothes that Chanyeol’s holding in his hands--carefully so he doesn’t get dirty himself, again. “You can throw those away, if you want,” he says, waving the hand not holding a spoon towards the kitchen trash can, “the clothes you’re wearing are yours now. Those jeans looked like they’d seen their better days.”

Chanyeol hesitates as Kyungsoo turns back to the stove, probably to give him the privacy to agonize over whether he should throw away his old, nearly useless clothes on his own. Chanyeol’s a little grateful, he still has his pride. No matter how much he knows that it’s kind of pointless to keep the clothes, he’s not even sure they’d survive a wash, it’s hard for him to throw away what little possessions he has.

Chanyeol makes up his mind and steps on the pedal to open the can. He drops his clothes in; if Kyungsoo’s not lying, then these new, clean clothes are his few possessions now.

As Chanyeol’s clothes clunk into the can, Kyungsoo grabs bowls from his cupboard. He has to stand on his toes to reach them, Chanyeol notices. He wants to help, almost, but he stops himself and stands behind one of the kitchen chairs. He grips the back.

Kyungsoo sets a filled bowl on the table in front of him. “Go ahead and take a seat,” he says, “do you want some water?” Even as he asks, he puts a glass by the bowl then grabs a pitcher from the fridge. Chanyeol sits down as Kyungsoo fills his own bowl.

“You finished fast,” Chanyeol says after Kyungsoo takes the seat across from him. He hesitates bringing a spoonful of _juk_ to his mouth.

“The _juk_?” Kyungsoo asks. “It’s habit.” He eats his own spoonful, and Chanyeol brings his to his mouth. It’s delicious, but Chanyeol hasn’t had fresh food for quite a while, so that could be why.

When Kyungsoo finishes his bite, he continues. “When I was growing up, my mom always thought that _juk_ was the cure to everything. If you were sick or tired or even just sad, she’d make _juk_. She always kept some frozen. So I do the same.”

Chanyeol has already eaten about half his bowl by the time Kyungsoo has finished talking, and he takes another bite before he replies. “You keep this much frozen for just you?”

“Well, I have a lot of people in and out,” Kyungsoo answers. “Like I said, I do this all the time.”

“Just pick up homeless hybrids?” Chanyeol asks, then looks down at his bowl. _Stupid,_ he thinks. He’s surprised it took him this long to ruin it.

But Kyungsoo just laughs, not meanly.

“Essentially, yes,” he says. “Have you heard of Tails cafe?”

Chanyeol hasn’t, and he’s sure his blank look is a tell, because Kyungsoo explains.

“It’s a cafe that hires hybrids,” he says. “My friend and I, he’s a hybrid rights lawyer, we own it. We also help provide hybrids with housing. We have a system of people as foster homes. That’s why I have an extra room all set up.”

Chanyeol’s grip on his spoon hurts. There’s no doubt that there’s lines forming in his palm in the shape of the handle. 

“So it’s like a shelter?”

“Not a shelter,” Kyungsoo answers. His answer comes quickly, but he doesn’t raise his voice any. He’s good at sounding calm, Chanyeol notices. Kyungsoo continues talking as Chanyeol forces himself to release his grip on his spoon. “We try to find the best type of household for every hybrid, not just sending them home with whichever family wants them. We match hybrids with families or roommates. Even help set them up in places of their own.”

Chanyeol looks down at his now empty bowl. “That … that sounds nice.”

“Would you want us to help you find something?” Kyungsoo’s smile is still pleasant, but his question puts Chanyeol on edge.

“I’m not … ” he pushes his bowl closer to the center of the table. “I don’t … ”

“No rush,” Kyungsoo says as he puts his own bowl into Chanyeol’s and moves to the sink to clean them. “But will you stay the night?” The sink’s running water lulls Chanyeol and he thinks about a warm, comfortable bed that he can sleep in after a warm meal. “You can come with me to the cafe tomorrow and see how you’d feel about working there. If you like it, you could stay with me until you figure out what you want to do.”

Chanyeol rubs his hands up and down his new pants.

“There would be breakfast in it, too,” Kyungsoo says, offhandedly. “And the chocolate drinks at the cafe are really good.”

“I’ll stay,” Chanyeol says. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Kyungsoo agrees.

\---

Chanyeol wakes warm, comfortable and confused.

He’s curled in a blanket with no holes that completely covers his toes and the pillow under his head is soft and downy and smells like a spring day or a fresh meadow or whatever laundry detergent is supposed to smell like.

He feels safe and warm and immediately he can feel his muscles tense up, his body responding to the unfamiliar situation by trying to go into some sort of fight or flight mode. He curls more tightly into himself and looks at the door. It’s still closed, unlocked as he had left it the night before. Kyungsoo had told him he was free to lock it if he needed to, but just the thought of being completely shut in like that makes Chanyeol’s heart race.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, fingers curled into the soft blankets but when there’s a knock at the door he realises that there are sheet marks on his palms.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo’s voice is muffled through the wood, but he sounds just as kind as Chanyeol remembers from the evening before. “Is it okay if I open the door?”

“Yes,” Chanyeol answers, almost says ‘it’s _your_ apartment,’ but fear of offending his host kills the words before they reach his throat.

The door opens slowly and Kyungsoo’s head pokes through the crack.

“I was about to make some breakfast. How does _bindaetteok_ and _kimchi_ sound?”

“It sounds good,” he says. His voice is rough so he coughs once to try to clear it. “You don’t have to, though.”

“I promised you breakfast,” Kyungsoo says, “you can’t refuse me.” His face is so serious that Chanyeol feels a tinge of worry. What if he offended him? What if Kyungsoo wants to kick him out, now, before he’s even woken up. Then, suddenly, Kyungsoo grins and all the tension Chanyeol was holding in his shoulders dissipates.

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “Okay. I’ll get ready?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “There are more clothes in the dresser. Wear whatever you like, I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.” He closes the door when he leaves.

\---

Chanyeol walks a step behind Kyungsoo in borrowed jeans and a shirt and another meal from Kyungsoo sitting heavy in his belly. The shirt’s fabric feels soft against his skin, well worn, and for the first time in ages his jeans are made specifically for a hybrid; there’s no uncomfortable chafing against the base of his tail.

As they walk, Kyungsoo keeps a running commentary of how to get from his apartment to the cafe, complete with pointing out easy to recognize landmarks. ‘In case you ever need to get to my house,’ he’d said, hitching an out-of-place backpack further up his shoulder as they turned a corner.

Truly, it isn’t that long of a walk to get to Tails; they’d only been out for about ten minutes when Kyungsoo stops short, which causes Chanyeol’s toes to scuff against the back of Kyungsoo’s shoes. Kyungsoo waves him off when he tries to apologize.

“Here we are,” he says, just about the same time that Chanyeol is considering a 90 degree bow in an attempt to make Kyungsoo accept his apology. When Kyungsoo holds his arm out, Chanyeol cuts his thought short and follows its direction. The cafe’s front is almost entirely window, and Chanyeol can see through it to the bustle of the staff within. He doesn’t get a chance to study the view through the window before notices the etched detail in the middle of the door: the word ‘Tails’ complete with ears on the ‘T’ and a tail curling off of the ‘s.’ Something must show on his face, because when Kyungsoo catches sight, he laughs.

“Not my idea,” he defends. “My business partner, Junmyeon, he let his Cat, Tao, design it.” Kyungsoo sounds exasperated but his face is fond. “The only thing I did was stop him from putting claws on it and making it leopard print.” He opens the door and leads Chanyeol in.

Inside, there are more hybrids in one place than Chanyeol has seen since he was in the shelter, and the thought almost makes him want to tuck his tail between his legs and run, but everyone seems to be pretty content. Some people look tired, but Chanyeol himself feels about the same, so he’s not surprised.

What does surprise him is when a dimpled smile topped with a mess of brown hair and bunny ears appears in front of him.

“You found someone new already, Kyungsoo?” The Bunny asks, and Kyungsoo chuckles. He doesn’t smile his heart smile, not completely, and Chanyeol feels a little selfish thrill at keeping that to himself right now.

“My apartment’s too lonely with just me in it,” Kyungsoo says. “Chanyeol, this is Yixing. Yixing, Chanyeol.” To Yixing, he continues, “Chanyeol’s going to be hanging out today. Maybe look around and see if there’s anything he feels like he’d like to do for a job.”

“I know the drill,” Yixing says.

“Of course you do,” Kyungsoo says, then he hands him the backpack he’d lugged all the way from his apartment, despite Chanyeol’s offers to carry it. “Then could you put this behind the counter?” he asks. “I need to go talk to Junmyeon before he gets into ‘worry about the budget’ mode.”

“He’s always in ‘worry about the budget’ mode,” Yixing returns, the dimple on his cheek deepens as he smirks. “Are we sure he’s a Gangnam boy?”

“Quiet,” Kyungsoo says. Then he surprises Chanyeol by reaching out and poking Yixing in the side roughly a few times.

“Are you trying to tickle me?” Yixing asks. “Are you threatening me with tickles?”

“You’re a Bunny,” Kyungsoo says, “it’s all I have.”

Yixing laughs, then pushes Kyungsoo a little, just enough to get him moving. “Go,” he says, “keep Junmyeon from cutting napkin orders again. I’ll show the puppy around.”

Chanyeol wants to bristle at the term, but Yixing turns the full focus of his smile onto him, and all Chanyeol can do is shuffle his feet.

“Hi,” Yixing says, smile never leaving his face. He seems very happy. “How long have you been with Kyungsoo?” he asks.

“Just since last night,” Chanyeol answers. “He bought me hot chocolate.” Chanyeol wants to cover his face with his hands, now.

Yixing doesn’t seem to think Chanyeol’s answer is weird at all.

“You like hot chocolate?” he asks, and before Chanyeol even has a chance to answer, he grabs the wrist of a cat hybrid passing by. “Sehun take care of the new kid while I make him some hot chocolate.” Then he’s gone.

“So your name is new kid?” the hybrid--Sehun--asks.

“It’s Chanyeol, actually,” he answers. Chanyeol actually gets a chance to look at Sehun. The cat hybrid isn’t taller than him, but he’s definitely not as short as Chanyeol is used to other people being. Silver ears stick straight up on top of silver hair and a silver tail is perked up behind him in curiosity.

“Well, then, Chanyeol-the-new-kid,” he says, “I’m Sehun. Since I’m supposed to take care of you, do you wanna wait in the booth back there until you get your hot chocolate?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol says, “I think I might like to step outside for a bit? It’s a little… claustrophobic in here.” That’s actually an understatement. Not only are there more hybrids in here than he’s seen a while, there are more people in general, and the store hasn’t even opened.

“Go on,” Sehun says, and he looks too knowing and Chanyeol’s not sure how much he likes that, so he pushes his way back out of the windowed door.

Kyungsoo’s going to want Chanyeol to work here, he’s going to want Chanyeol to come in and make drinks or deal with people and Chanyeol isn’t sure he can do that. He wasn’t supposed to stay the whole night, anyway. He can’t stay, he decides, and goes to push away from the wall.

“One second, new-kid,” Chanyeol hears from the doorway and his heart sinks down in his chest.

“I was just…”

“Going to skip off,” Sehun says, letting the door fall shut behind him. “I know how it goes. But you’re gonna need this.”

Chanyeol turns around and sees Sehun holding a backpack towards him. It looks a lot like the backpack that Kyungsoo had lugged from his house to the cafe, earlier. In fact, it looks exactly like the backpack that Kyungsoo had lugged from his house to the cafe.

“This is…” He reaches out to grab it, but drops his hand. Even though it feels like it should belong to him, it doesn’t. Not really.

“It’s from Kyungsoo,” Sehun says. “Here, take it.”

“Why … ?” Chanyeol does grab the bag this time. It’s heavier than he thought it would be. He goes to unzip the bag, then glances back up at Sehun.

“Go on,” Sehun says. So Chanyeol opens the main pocket of the bag. Inside is a change of clothes, a couple of water bottles and a few handfuls of health bars. Opening another pocket he finds socks, a little bottle of shampoo and soap, and toothpaste and a toothbrush. He pulls out the socks and squeezes them in his fists.

“You’ll want to look in the smallest pocket,” Sehun says, pulling a couple of seats away from one of the little metal tables sitting in front of the windows. He sits in one and pats the one beside him. Chanyeol, unable to think of a way to _not_ sit, sits. He follows Sehun’s suggestion and, after a fumbling around with the backpack for a few seconds until he finds a small pocket near the bottom of the bag.

He pulls out an envelope.

_Dear Chanyeol,_ he reads

_Since you’re reading this letter, I take it that you have_  
_decided to leave. I wish there was something I could do_  
_to convince you to stay, but you’re free to make your own_  
_decisions. This backpack and everything in it is yours to_  
_keep. I hope you left wearing the coat I gave you, I wasn’t_  
_able to fit another in the bag._

__

__

_I just want you to know that you’re always welcome with me._  
_If you need anything: a bed to sleep in, a meal, just someone_  
_to talk to, come to my house or to the cafe. You’ll always_  
_have a place to stay or work there. I put my personal card_  
_and business card in the envelope, in case you need help_  
_finding me._

_Kyungsoo_

Chanyeol looks in the envelope and, just as the letter said, there are two business cards. He holds them, stacked neatly and frames them with his fingers, twisting them around a few times before he can bring himself to look at Sehun again.

“How did you know…?”

“What would be in the bag?” Sehun finishes for him. “I got one once, about a year ago. Different letter, I’m sure,” he says.

“You tried to leave?” Chanyeol asks. It’s hard to believe, really; Sehun seems so comfortable around everyone in the coffee shop, and he came after Chanyeol so easily.

“I didn’t just try,” Sehun says. “I actually lifted the bag. Got out of the cafe, on the subway and a few bus stops away before I opened the bag and saw my letter. I did _not_ cry,” he says, pointing at Chanyeol’s face, “don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise ever.”

“Who would tell me otherwise?” Chanyeol can’t help but ask.

“No one,” Sehun says. “Because it never happened. Anyway, I was able to use some of the money in the bag to call him on a payphone and he came and picked me up, no questions asked.”

“Did you stay with him?” Chanyeol asks, unable to curb his curiosity.

“I did,” Sehun answers. For about two months until I met Junmyeon’s cat Tao and he kind of adopted me.”

“His cat adopted you?”

“They both did,” Sehun says. When he smiles it changes his whole face and he looks about 5 years younger.

“So you’re…” Chanyeol rubs one hand over his knee; the other is still holding onto the business cards and the letter. “You’re glad you called him?”

“I am,” Sehun answers. “Kyungsoo’s a great guy,” he explains. “He’s rough around the edges, sometimes,” he continues, “but he’s extremely kind and he was pretty much made to take care of people. And he’ll help you find somewhere that’s best for you.”

Chanyeol rubs his knee again. It all sounds nice, but he’s not sure that’s what he wants. Can Chanyeol deal with staying with someone? Where is even ‘best for him’? What if there isn’t one?

“Hey,” Sehun says. He nudges Chanyeol’s foot with his own. “You have me too, I guess. Someone who has some clue what you’re going through. So there’s that.”

“There’s that,” Chanyeol says. He looks down at the letter again, the bag at his feet, then grabs it. He hands it to Sehun.

“Come on,” Sehun says. “You have hot chocolate waiting.”

\---

A few hours, two hot chocolates and way too much learned about Sehun’s boyfriend Zitao later Kyungsoo appears behind Sehun and grabs his cat ear and pulls.

“No one needs to know how shiny Zitao’s coat is,” he says over Sehun’s indignant yowling. 

“But it’s very shiny,” he says as he bats away Kyungsoo’s hands. “Junmyeon got us a new shampoo; wanna feel?” He tilts his head towards Kyungsoo. “No pinching.”

Kyungsoo thumps him, but then he scratches between Sehun’s ears and the cat immediately begins to purr. And _wow_ , Chanyeol thinks, _he looks really good at that._

Kyungsoo pats Sehun’s head one more time then turns his attention to Chanyeol and he feels a blush crawl up his ears. He smoothes his ears down over the red skin, pretending to fix his fur.

“Are you ready to head back home?” he asks. He says home so easily, like Chanyeol hasn’t been having a little breakdown over this since Kyungsoo picked him up the night before.

Sehun scratches at the base of his neck.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol answers, “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, then to Sehun, “Do you have my bag?”

“Right here,” Sehun says, holding up the bag he’d brought to Chanyeol earlier. Kyungsoo reaches out to grab it, but Chanyeol gets there first.

“You carried it up here,” he says. “I can carry it back.”

Kyungsoo’s smile makes it worth it.

\---

As soon as the door closes behind the last customer, Chanyeol types his new employee number into the log-in screen before grabbing the window cleaner and a cloth and heading to the front door to wipe it clean. The day they’d visited the store for the first time, after they got home, Chanyeol told Kyungsoo that he’d like to have something to do around the store. He’d requested that whatever he did didn’t involve anything breakable; he barely trusts his limbs and tail around himself, much less a business’ stuff. Mostly he doesn’t want to feel like he was burdening his temporary roommate.

And that’s it, isn’t it? He thinks as he wipes down the windows in circles, reaching up to reach the very top corners. Temporary. The word’s been bouncing through his head every day for the past week, ever since Kyungsoo had taken him in. Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything directly, but he’s mentioned a few times how they have people who have checked out to be good homes for hybrids. How he knows some people, human and hybrid, who are looking for roommates. 

Even though Chanyeol has only been staying with Kyungsoo for about two weeks, he already feels more comfortable here than he has anywhere else he's ever lived. He likes listening to Kyungsoo cook dinner through the closed door of the room in which he's staying; he likes hanging out at the cafe when Kyungsoo comes in (even though he always feels awkwardly as if he's not doing enough to help); he even likes this, right now, wiping down the surfaces inside the cafe.

After he finishes wiping the table-tops down he turns around and almost jumps when he sees Sehun, with his chin resting on his fists, elbows on the counter.

“I can take these off,” Sehun says, waving his fingers over the many knick-knacks on the counter. “Then you can get done faster and play with me until Junmyeon’s ready to go home.

Chanyeol, grateful he doesn’t have to deal with the ceramic lucky cats and the glass candy jars, nods. They work as a team for the rest of the surfaces, Sehun taking everything off the table so Chanyeol can clean it off then putting everything back on when he’s done.

When they’re done, Chanyeol barely gets a chance to sign back out of the computer before Sehun drags him to a booth.

“Junmyeon and Kyungsoo are working on _papers_ ,” Sehun whines. “Pet me until we can go home.”

“Cats are so needy,” Chanyeol says, but he lets Sehun lay his head in his lap and does as he’s told, listening to all the stories that Sehun tells him, mostly about Zitao and about how bad Junmyeon is at cooking, until Kyungsoo and Junmyeon exit the office.

“Time to go home kitty-cat,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun pops out of Chanyeol’s lap faster than Chanyeol can even register that he’s getting up.

“Are you ready to go home?” Kyungsoo asks, and Chanyeol stands up beside him. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, “I cleaned all the tables and windows,” he says.

“They look great,” Kyungsoo answers, and embarrassingly enough Chanyeol can feel his tail begin to wag.

“Thank you,” he says, ducking his head and following Kyungsoo out of the store.

\---

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

Every time Kyungsoo asks this, Chanyeol almost doesn’t believe he actually means it. But it’s been weeks and each time Kyungsoo has tried to make whatever Chanyeol comes up with. Usually it’s through Kyungsoo’s own suggestions, though; it feels almost like he’d be pushing his luck to just tell Kyungsoo what he should make.

“Anything’s good for me,” he answers, “whatever you want to make.”

Kyungsoo’s head pops out from behind the fridge door and he gives Chanyeol that blank stare that he still hasn’t quite gotten used to. Then he smiles.

“There’s some left over rice in here,” he says, “I could make some fried rice.”

“That sounds good,” he says. His fingers curl around the edges of the borrowed book he’s attempting to make his way through. He learned how to read before, but he hasn’t had much of a chance in the last few years. He doesn’t go back to it, though, because Kyungsoo’s head is still visible past the shiny silver of the door.

“I can do chicken, tofu or kimchi,” Kyungsoo continues, “or a mix?”

“Um,” Chanyeol worries one of the pages between his fingers, “whatever’s easier. Tofu?”

Kyungsoo nods once, decided. “Tofu sounds great,” he says, pulling things out of the fridge.

Chanyeol marks his place in the book and sets it softly down on the table. With his hands in his pockets, he walks over to the kitchen. He watches from the safety of the kitchen table as Kyungsoo pours some oil in a pan and turns on the stove.

“Do you need any help?” He asks. He wants to help but he can also kind of picture himself knocking something over and catching the whole apartment on fire, so he’s relieved when Kyungsoo waves a hand over his shoulder.

“You can keep me company,” he answers, cutting up a block of tofu to toss into the pan. “It’s too small in here for both of us really, but talking’s nice.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says. He’s no good at small-talk, it’s something he’s never really had a chance to practice. “How was your day?”

“You were there for most of it,” Kyungsoo says, and Chanyeol feels his stomach drop until Kyungsoo throws a smile over his shoulder. He tries to smile back and it feels too wide on his face, but Kyungsoo smiles a little bigger before turning back to his pan.

“Sorry,” he says, rubbing his thumb against his knee and tries to pay attention to the texture of the denim. “I’m not sure what to talk about then.”

“Whatever’s fine,” Kyungsoo answers. “How about we talk about you?”

Chanyeol’s not sure how much he wants that, but he makes a positive sound in reply anyway.

Kyungsoo mixes rice and vegetables into his pan. “How have you been getting along with everyone?”

“Everyone’s really nice,” he says, “Sehun talks to me a lot,” his smile is more genuine when he laughs this time. “Mostly about Zitao.” It’s not exactly true, but the laugh it gets from Kyungsoo is worth it.

“That’s Sehun, all right,” he chuckles. “I’m glad they found each other,” he continues. “Zitao and Junmyeon have been really good for him.” For a second there’s just the sound of the food frying and being stirred. “Have you given any thought to what kind of place you want to look for?”

Chanyeol’s hands clench on their own volition and he can feel his brain rushing at what feels like 130 kilometers per hour. He knew this would come, he tries to tell himself. Kyungsoo did pick him up to find him somewhere else to live, so it’s not really like he’s sending him away, not really. But Chanyeol thinks about the room that Kyungsoo’s letting him stay in that smell like Kyungsoo’s fabric softener.

Chanyeol must be quiet for too long. He doesn’t really notice, because suddenly it seems like all he can hear is the rush of blood in his ears. Kyungsoo must notice, though, because he moves the pan off of the heat and turns around.

“Hey,” he says, his voice stays in one soothing tone, “it’s okay, there’s no rush. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Chanyeol clears his throat. “I haven’t,” he says then his voice catches and he shuts his mouth. He doesn’t want to have to leave yet, but he’s not sure what to say to stay. He wonders if he looks as panicked as he feels.

He must, because Kyungsoo takes a very small step towards him.

“Chanyeol,” he says. “Hey. It’s okay. I wasn’t lying when I said you have a place here as long as you need it.”

He sounds like he’s telling the truth, but people have sounded that way before. Chanyeol stands up abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a few steps backwards. “I need to go… change. To eat. I’ll go change.” He turns tail and runs to his room -- or, rather, Kyungsoo’s guestroom.

Chanyeol closes the door behind him and drops onto the bed. He pulls the pillows to his chest and presses his face into the space below him, which still maintain the scent of Kyungsoo’s laundry detergent. He clenches his fingers into the down pillow in his hands and allows himself a shuddery breath. If Kyungsoo wants him out, he thinks, he can handle this. He squeezes the pillow more tightly. He doesn’t want to handle it.

He’s not sure how long he lies in bed, just breathing, but he’s startled out of his state some time later by a knock at the door.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo’s voice calls out through the wood, but he makes no attempt to open the door. “The food’s ready to eat, if you’re hungry.”

Chanyeol waits until he hears Kyungsoo’s footsteps fade away before going to the door. No matter how much he wants to hide in this room forever, he knows he can’t, so he heads back into the kitchen. Kyungsoo smiles at him when he walks in and thankfully doesn’t say anything about the fact that Chanyeol didn’t actually end up changing his clothes. He sets a plate for Chanyeol at the same place he’d been doing for the last couple of weeks and sits down to eat his own meal. When Chanyeol finally sits down, he swallows and looks up.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” he says, and Chanyeol jerks his head up to look him in the eye. “I told you that you have a space here for as long as you need one and I wasn’t lying. You’re very great to have around and I’m not going to kick you out.”

Chanyeol wonders if he’s that transparent. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Chanyeol says, and continues talking when Kyungsoo opens his mouth, “for not having an answer.” Chanyeol spins his spoon over again and again. “It’s just hard. To think about.”

“I get that,” Kyungsoo says. “You don’t have to think about anything until you’re ready.” He fills his spoon again. “Now eat your meal while it’s warm.” He smiles at Chanyeol and Chanyeol smiles back.

\---

After dinner, Chanyeol sits on the couch beside Kyungsoo as the other reads over papers for Tails. Normally he would have escaped to the guest room to keep from bothering him, but Kyungsoo had patted the seat beside him and handed Chanyeol the remote. He flips through channels, watching out of the corner of his eye in an attempt to catch Kyungsoo’s reaction to the various shows.

Kyungsoo turns a page.

Chanyeol eventually settles on a cooking drama. He’s not really that interested in it, but the sounds that come from the TV are calm and unobstructive.

Before he’s realized what happened, he’s jerking himself awake as his head slides to the side, his cheek hitting Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“Sorry!” He says before it actually hits him what’s happened. “I’ll go to my room.” He makes to stand up, but Kyungsoo lowers his papers. He reaches over to the chair beside the couch and grabs the pillow sitting there.

“You can lay on the couch if you want,” he says as he holds the pillow out to Chanyeol. “I’m not going to push you to your room for me to read some boring papers.” He waves towards his lap. “You can put your head or feet here,” he says, “maybe you’ll keep _me_ awake.”

Chanyeol hesitates, but Kyungsoo is smiling at him, so he gently rests the pillow on Kyungsoo’s lap; he doesn’t want to accidently kick Kyungsoo in the stomach or find out his feet smell. He lies stiff as Kyungsoo turns another page, then almost jumps out of his skin when Kyungsoo’s hand rests on the pillow beside his ear, fingers barely tickling the fur there.

“Would it be alright if I pet you?” Kyungsoo asks and Chanyeol twists his neck around to look at Kyungsoo in surprise. “I’m more tired than I thought it was, I need something to keep myself awake, but at least one of us should be able to sleep.”

“That...” Chanyeol clears his throat. “Yeah, that would be. Good. Okay.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t make a big deal about it, just keeps reading his papers as he slides one hand into Chanyeol’s hair. Chanyeol hadn’t realized before, but Kyungsoo’s nails are just long enough that he can scratch at Chanyeol’s scalp in a way that makes him let out an involuntary sigh. Kyungsoo flips the page over with one hand tilting the paper as his other drifts towards Chanyeol’s ear. He rubs his thumb around the base as his fingers scratch in front of it.

Kyungsoo is just as good at this as Chanyeol had thought the first time he saw Kyungsoo pet Sehun at the cafe. It lulls him into slipping his eyes closed, soothed like he hasn’t been in years by the fingers in his hair and the sound of Kyungsoo flipping pages and the cooking drama in the background.

\---

When Chanyeol opens his eyes, it’s to the morning light shining in from the window. He’s not in the bed he’s become used to, it’s thinner and the blanket is less soft, and for a second he freezes, worried that maybe everything he’d thought he’d gotten used to was somehow a very elaborate dream. 

The sounds coming from the kitchen reassure him. Kyungsoo sings quietly as he makes breakfast, he’d learned, and today is just the same. The stove clicks as it’s turned on and the Kyungsoo’s singing turns to humming as he begins to run water from the faucet. 

Chanyeol stretches his legs out until his feet hang over the arm of the couch. He closes his eyes again and if he tries he can almost feel Kyungsoo’s fingers in his hair. He’s on the edge of sleep again when he actually does. Chanyeol looks up at Kyungsoo, who’s smiling down at him while he smoothes his hand through Chanyeol’s hair.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” he says, “time to get up.” He heads back to the kitchen.

Chanyeol pushes himself up and throws his legs down in front of the couch. This room is almost as familiar to him as his bedroom, he realizes, and he could describe both rooms many times more accurately than any of the other’s he’s had over time. 

His thoughts are interrupted by Kyungsoo calling “Breakfast!” His tail wags as he follows the voice.

\---

As each day passes, Chanyeol feels more and more in place anywhere in the apartment and the cafe. He takes showers without asking if it’s okay and he even feels okay grabbing a glass of water on his own. He’s much less hesitant about letting Kyungsoo pet him and he’s just learned he really enjoys spending time with him. All in all, Chanyeol would say he’s fucked.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo’s voice comes from the kitchen, “you don’t like spicy food, do you?”

“Not… really,” Chanyeol answers. He’s almost not surprised that Kyungsoo would remember something like this about him at this point, even though he’s never actually said anything about it before. There is still that flash of unexpected pleasure that Kyungsoo cares enough to ask.

“Could you come in here and taste this, then?” Kyungsoo asks. “I want to make sure it’s not too bad.”

Chanyeol stands up, tail wagging a little bit when he thinks about Kyungsoo wanting his opinion. As he makes his way around the couch, the sudden sound of the blender turning on startles him and, before he actually even realizes that the sound is happening, he feels his stomach swoop as something, his elbow or his tail, catches the table lamp just to his left. As it hits the ground, it feels like his stomach has fallen with it.

He’s vaguely aware of the blender turning off again and Kyungsoo calling his name, but the only thing he can focus on is the pieces of ceramic and glass on the floor. He needs to get a broom, clean it up before Kyungsoo sees it. He’s already stepped forward before he realizes that he doesn’t know where a broom is. He’s kneeling down before he knows it and scoops some of the pieces into his hands. He needs a trash can, he needs somewhere to put the mess. He thinks about putting it in the bottom of his shirt to take to the trash can but when he actually looks at his his hands he sees red staining the ceramic and the ugly tan glass of the lampshade that Chanyeol was just beginning to like.

Hands grab his wrists and it only then that he hears Kyungsoo speaking, “...you have to step back you’re hurting yourself, Chanyeol please.” 

Chanyeol looks over at Kyungsoo. His eyes are wider than usual and his thick eyebrows are furrowed together in a frown. Because of Chanyeol. He holds the pieces more tightly, wanting to hide them. Kyungsoo gives his wrists a shake until he lets go, the sound of the pieces hitting the floor match the stutter of his heart. He doesn’t even think, just follows Kyungsoo as he tugs Chanyeol up, only keeping the presence of mind to walk on the side of his feet because now that he’s standing he can feel the wet of blood on the bottom. He doesn’t want to stain Kyungsoo’s floors.

Kyungsoo leads him to the bathroom and sits him on the side of the tub before he grabs the first aid box, one that Kyungsoo had pointed out to him his first official day of staying in the house. He sits it on the floor by the tub then kneels down beside Chanyeol’s knees.

“Put your feet in here,” he says, “that’s right.” He turns on the faucet and holds his hand under it for a second, then grabs Chanyeol’s legs and, surprisingly, rubs his thumb against the hybrid’s ankle. Chanyeol can’t take his eyes off of Kyungsoo’s face, on the lookout for any show of anger, anything that says what’s going to happen to him next.

“I’m going to have to clean your hands and feet to get the glass off, okay?” Kyungsoo eases his feet into the water. “Tell me if it hurts.”

It does hurt a bit, but Chanyeol doesn’t say anything as Kyungsoo gently rubs a cloth over them. Cream, Chanyeol notices, but slowly being stained pink. Kyungsoo moves on to his hands, then turns off the faucet. He reaches up to the towel rack and grabs a towel hanging there, also cream, and before Chanyeol can think to protest Kyungsoo is already patting his feet and palms dry.  


One of the pats sends a shot of pain up his leg and he tries not to wince but Kyungsoo must notice, because he winces in sympathy.

“I think there’s still some glass here,” he says, reaching over to the first aid kit. He returns with a pair of tweezers and, after a moment of hesitation, steps into the the tub with his back to the faucet. He reaches out and pulls Chanyeol’s foot onto his knees to steady it and pulls a sliver of glass, the ugly beige glass, out of his heel. He looks over Chanyeol’s other foot and both of his hands before putting the tweezers away. He grabs a bottle of cleaner and some bandages and continues on in dealing with Chanyeol’s wounds. Through the sting of the cleaning and Kyungsoo’s gentle hands smoothing bandages and gauze over his palms Chanyeol keeps his eyes on the damp cuffs of Kyungsoo’s pants and the spot of blood on his knee.

As Kyungsoo puts the last bandage on Chanyeol’s palm, he realizes, “I need to clean up the mess.”

“I can do that,” Kyungsoo says. They way he’s looking at Chanyeol is strange, and Chanyeol has no clue how to read it. “You shouldn’t move your hands or feet much until they heal up some more.”

“Ah,” Chanyeol says. “Then I guess I’m gonna go to my… to the guest room.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, his eyebrows furrowing again. “If that’s what you want.” Chanyeol nods. “Just let me know if you need anything. Call me if you need. Do you need help getting there?”

“I can do it,” Chanyeol says, throwing his legs over the side of the tub. He makes sure to stand on the side of his feet again as he wobbles his way to the room, closing the door behind him before he curls up on the bed, pulling a pillow into his arms. It doesn’t smell like Kyungsoo’s detergent anymore, but Chanyeol rests his cheek against it anyway and pretends because otherwise he’s going to start thinking about all the things in this apartment that he’s going to miss when he has to leave.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, trying to burn everything about this house, about Kyungsoo into his mind. He wants to be able to remember the soft down of the pillows and the way the kitchen always seems to smell like coffee and the _juk_ in the freezer.

He’s pulled out of himself by a knock on the door. There’s only Kyungsoo in the house, but he knows it’s not him when the door begins to open; Kyungsoo has never opened the door without first asking permission, so he’s not very surprised when Sehun’s long face appears from behind the door.

“Kyungsoo called to say you were sad,” Sehun says without saying hi. “And that you hurt yourself?”

“I broke a lamp,” Chanyeol says, not looking Sehun in the eye. This doesn’t seem to bother Sehun, who just walks on in and sits down on the end of the bed. He picks up Chanyeol’s feet and lays his shins across his lap, then leans over to look at the bottom of them.

“I thought there was an eyesore missing from the living room,” Sehun says. “Well, that’s nothing to be sad about.”

“I’m not sad,” Chanyeol protests, even though he kind of feels like crying. “I just…” he angles his body a little bit more towards the bed, so his next words come out muffled by the pillow against his mouth. “I’m not ready to leave, yet.”

“Leave?” Sehun asks. “Who said anything about leaving? Because I know Kyungsoo didn’t.”

“I broke his lamp,” Chanyeol repeats.

“It was an ugly lamp,” Sehun says. “Kyungsoo didn’t even like it, he just kept it because he knew that Junmyeon thought he wouldn’t.”

“Junmyeon got it for him?” Chanyeol asks, feeling misery settle even further into his gut.

“That’s not what you were supposed to focus on.” Sehun gives Chanyeol’s legs a little shake. “Listen,” he says, “you’re not going to get kicked out. I’m not sure what what I can say to make you believe me.”

Chanyeol sighs, prepared for Sehun to pull from underneath his legs and leave. What he gets, though, is Sehun’s hands gripping his shin, thumbs rubbing against his calf.

“Will you listen to me if I tell you a story?” Sehun asks, and Chanyeol pulls his face away from the pillow. Sehun’s thumbs keep massaging into his muscle. “Kyungsoo didn’t find me on a street or, like, in a bad family or anything,” he says. “I was still in the shelter. I was 17 and I hadn’t been adopted. At all. They were about to send me into one of the homes.”

Chanyeol can’t help but cringe. Everyone had heard horror stories about the homes, the last resort for hybrids. Kind of like a shelter, but over-crowded and with no chance of adoption. It’s pretty much where hybrids have to stay if until they can somehow find a family on their own or take care of themselves. The homes, Chanyeol knows, are pretty much any hybrid’s greatest fear. Especially his. And especially Sehun’s, apparently.

Sehun continues. “Everyone would say I was too angry looking or not cutesy enough. Not ‘cat’ enough. So I guess I’m just saying I get it, not being wanted.”

Chanyeol pushes himself up - with his elbows, after a quick and painful reminder that the palms of his hands are pounding - and lets his legs fall from Sehun’s lap. His feet hit the ground a second before he remembers that those are _also_ pounding. 

“How did you know…”

“You can recognize it in other people,” Sehun answers.

It’s quiet as Chanyeol pulls his legs up to the bed and arranges himself to sit with them crossed on the bed. 

“I was adopted a lot,” Chanyeol finally says, “and I was sent back almost as many times.”

“Almost?” Sehun asks.

“I ran away the last time,” Chanyeol says.

Sehun nudges Chanyeol with his shoulder, then when Chanyeol doesn’t respond, he reaches over and pulls Chanyeol’s head over to rest against his shoulder and scratches between his ears.

“It sucks,” Sehun says, “All of those people suck and it sucks that that happened, but Kyungsoo doesn’t suck and he’s not going to kick you out because you broke an ugly lamp.” He goes from scratching Chanyeol’s scalp to rubbing the hair there until Chanyeol is ducking away. “Now are you going to to believe me and talk to Kyungsoo and get on the same page or am I going to have to miss take-out night?”

“You’re not going to have to miss take-out night,” Chanyeol says as he elbows Sehun’s arm away.

“You’re going to talk to Kyungsoo,” Sehun counters.

“Go eat your take-out,” Chanyeol says and swats at Sehun’s back when he walks out of the room.

He sits there again, playing his conversation with Sehun over again in his head. There’s another knock at his door, but it doesn’t open this time.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo’s voice comes through the door. “Dinner’s ready if you want to come out?”

“I… I’ll be there,” Chanyeol calls. “Just a second.”

He waits until he can hear Kyungsoo’s footsteps move away from the door before he gets up and sticks his head out. He doesn’t know why he’s checking to see where Kyungsoo is, since he’s heading to the same room as the other, but it calms him to see that he doesn’t have to face him, yet, regardless.

When he gets into the kitchen, Kyungsoo is already setting a bowl down in the same space that Chanyeol has been sitting for all the weeks he’s been here. He sits down without looking at Kyungsoo, but he still waits for the shorter man to sit down before he makes a clumsy attempt at picking up the spoon that’s been set in front of him. It isn’t until he actually looks at his food that he looks up and meets Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“I changed the menu,” Kyungsoo says, filling his own spoon with _juk_. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think we both need it right now.”

Chanyeol takes a bite and takes his time eating it before he speaks.

“You need some, too?”

“I do,” Kyungsoo says. “You really scared me. I heard a crash and just saw you kneeling in broken glass with blood on your hands. I was worried you really hurt yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says. He stirs the _juk_ around before he gathers up the courage to say, “are you going to make me leave?”

“Make you...?” Kyungsoo drops his spoon into his own bowl. “I’m not going to make you leave, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says. “I hated that lamp. And even if I didn’t, it was an accident.”

Chanyeol stuffs another bite into his mouth to keep from having to say anything as Kyungsoo stares at him with that unreadable, eyebrow furrowed look.

“Sehun told me you wanted to talk to me,” Kyungsoo finally says and when Chanyeol swallows his mouthful it goes down like lead. “Is it why you think I’m going to kick you out?”

Chanyeol nods, and it’s silent as Kyungsoo pushes his bowl to the side to focus all of his attention on Chanyeol. It’s uncomfortable, but there’s also something about the gaze that makes Chanyeol feel like he’s really being taken seriously.

“I had a lot of families,” Chanyeol finally says, and Kyungsoo nods to show that he’s listening. “I was adopted when I was 6 by a family. About a week after that they brought me back because I played with their child’s noise making toys when I wasn’t supposed to and knocked over too many things in the middle of the night.

“Then I was adopted at 9. The shelter explained to the family that it was around the time when hybrids go through puberty and that I would begin to mature a little faster than a human.” He remembers standing there, the family nodding along as the shelter worker had laid out hybrid biology, that when Chanyeol began puberty his growing would speed up, a leftover from the odd mix of human and animal DNA in his body. They’d explained that it would pause for a while, that their children would probably catch back up with him and to just wait it out. He hadn’t really understood it at the time, but from the way his soon-to-be family was nodding, they had seemed to.

Chanyeol clears his throat. This one is one of the hardest for him to talk about, for some reason. Maybe it’s because they seemed to understand; he’d really thought he’d found a family to stay with. Maybe his struggle to speak shows in his face, because Kyungsoo makes a soft noise in his throat and reaches his hands out towards the center of the table. He doesn’t touch Chanyeol’s hands, but the gesture is something he finds oddly comforting.

“You don’t have to give me all of the details, I know it’s probably hard.” The way Kyungsoo is looking at him doesn’t seem like pity, and that’s what makes Chanyeol able to continue.

“No,” he says, “I want to tell you this.” He takes a breath to gather his words, then continues. “I started growing out of my clothes too fast and I got bigger than their kids. They sent me back a few months later saying they just weren’t prepared to have to pay for all of my new clothes.

“The third family adopted me when I was thirteen. They had a son, too, and he played rough. He pushed me once and I pushed back. His parents only saw that part, then they sent me back. I was growing again and they told the shelter that I was getting too big and was going to hurt their son. I ran off when I heard the fourth family talking about how I was just getting too big too fast. How they wanted a puppy and not a dog. That was when I was seventeen.”

Chanyeol takes a drink of water when he finishes talking and stares down at his _juk_ as he waits for Kyungsoo to respond. He hears Kyungsoo’s chair scrape across the kitchen tile, but he doesn’t expect Kyungsoo to stand beside him, wrap his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders and pull him to his chest.

“I’m not going to send you back to the street,” Kyungsoo says, his hand petting over Chanyeol’s ears with light touches. “What those people did was awful and shouldn’t be allowed to happen to anyone. And it’s not something that I would ever do.” Kyungsoo tightens his grip once before backing up. “Sorry about that,” he says as he settles back down in his chair, “you just really looked like you needed it.”

“I did,” Chanyeol says, then, “you’re really not going to send me back? Even though I broke the lamp and I can’t cook and I do the easiest work at the cafe and I…”

“I’m not going to give up on you, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, “You’re not _supposed_ to be anything. You’re allowed to be clumsy, you don’t have to cook or serve or anything. I just want to help you get the life that will make you happy.”

Chanyeol pokes his toes against the legs of his chair. “Thank you,” he says.

“It’s nothing,” Kyungsoo says. “Now eat your _juk_.

\---

A few days after the lamp incident, or ‘when you did Kyungsoo-hyung’s living room a favor,’ as Sehun likes to call it, the city is hit by a storm.

Chanyeol jumps at the crack of thunder and pulls the covers up all the way over his ears. He feels stupid to be cowering under the covers in a thunderstorm at 20, but he can’t help it. He knows nothing’s actually going to happen, but there’s always been something about loud, sudden noises that make him feel like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. He supposes it’s the dog in him, but he’d never bothered to ask anyone at the shelter, and he hasn’t really had a chance to find out since then.

At the next crash of thunder, the practically slides from beneath his covers and leaves his room in a rush to get to the living room, hoping that the fact the other room is more centered in the apartment will mean the thunder is more quiet.

He’s wrong, and the next crash has him crawling under the living room table, seeking what he’s well aware is a false sense of security. With the right side of his face pressed to the ground, his ear smushed into his temple, he can hear the hum of the apartment as well as the rush of blood in his head.

He’s so busy trying to focus on those sounds and not the thunder and wind outside that he’s surprised when he opens his eyes and sees Kyungsoo’s bare feet about a meter away. When they get right beside him, Kyungsoo kneels down and sticks his head down to meet Chanyeol’s eyes.

“That can’t be a comfortable way to sleep,” is the first thing he says.

“It’s not,” Chanyeol says, “but it keeps me from hearing the…” he yelps when the next boom of thunder rolls past the apartment, his head jumping from the ground before falling back down, bumping his forehead. “The thunder.”

“You can’t sleep here,” Kyungsoo says, putting his hand between Chanyeol’s forehead and the ground and rubbing his sore head. “You’ll wake up with everything hurting.”

“I’ll just stay here until the storm dies down,” Chanyeol assures. “Loud noises put me on edge. I won’t be able to sleep, anyway.”

“It’s supposed to go all night,” Kyungsoo sits down flat on the ground. He uses the hand not protecting Chanyeol’s temple from the wooden floors to rub at his ear. It calms him a little and helps distract him at the next thunder crash. “Is there anything I can do to get you back in bed? Or at least on the couch?”

Unthinkingly, Chanyeol pushes his head into Kyungsoo’s hand and Kyungsoo scratches a little harder in response.

“Can I…” Chanyeol stops, wondering if he’s going to far, but Kyungsoo makes a leading little sound in his throat “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I can sleep on a pallet on the floor if you want I just. Maybe if I can hear you I won’t think about the noise?”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says, “if that’s what you want. But I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor, that’s what I’m trying to stop you from doing.” His laughter sounds like a soft breeze in the middle of this storm, and Chanyeol can feel himself relax a little more.

“How did you know I was out here?” Chanyeol asks as he wiggles out from under the table.

“You were making little whimpers,” Kyungsoo says, helping pull Chanyeol up, “I don’t know if you realized. But I was getting some water and I heard you in here.” He leads Chanyeol to his room then pats the less messy side of the bed in invitation. “I don’t think I kick or anything,” Kyungsoo says as Chanyeol tentatively settles down on the offered side of the bed. “Junmyeon tells me I snore, but I think he’s lying.” He laughs again and Chanyeol can barely hear the wind howl outside of the window. 

Kyungsoo reaches over and clicks the lamp off before taking his own side of the bed.

When Kyungsoo lies down beside Chanyeol on his back, the bed dips just enough that Chanyeol’s forehead just barely slides over to touch Kyungsoo’s shoulder. He leaves it there for a second, waiting for some kind of reaction. When he gets none, he scoots his body over a little more until he can rest his head wholly on Kyungsoo’s chest.

“Good night,” Kyungsoo says, letting his hand rest heavy on Chanyeol’s head.

Chanyeol lays with his eyes open for a while before he realizes, with the sound of Kyungsoo’s heartbeat and breathing in his ear and his fingers scratching through his hair, barely aware of the storm which still hasn’t let up, that he is completely in love with Do Kyungsoo.

\---

After the night of the storm, nothing changes, yet everything is different.

Chanyeol wakes up to Kyungsoo’s alarm, the sudden noise of it makes Chanyeol yelp, his voice scratchy from sleep, and try to curl up on himself. He can’t move much from how he’s curled up against Kyungsoo, one knee on top of Kyungsoo’s thigh and his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says as he reaches over to grab his phone with the arm that under Chanyeol’s neck. Kyungsoo’s other hand immediately settles between Chanyeol’s ears, scratching until Chanyeol’s relaxed again, tail out from between his legs. 

With the alarm off and the sudden panic gone, Chanyeol actually registers how he and Kyungsoo are wrapped around each other and pushes himself up, quickly enough that his still tired mind swims a little.

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything about his sudden move, just smiles at him and says, “Good morning.”

The days following are what Chanyeol has come to call normal, except Chanyeol begins to notice things that he’s never considered before. Kyungsoo still lets Chanyeol rest his head in his lap when they watch TV, but sometimes Chanyeol looks up and sees that, instead of watching the TV, Kyungsoo is just looking down at him with a soft look on his face. When he’s caught, Kyungsoo just smiles at him then looks back at the TV, but Chanyeol can’t stop thinking about Kyungsoo’s eyes looking down at him.

The nights change for Chanyeol, too. The first night he shared Kyungsoo’s bed, Chanyeol had stayed in bed for twenty minutes, rubbing his head against the pillow and pushing his toes down against the mattress before he had decided he couldn’t take it anymore and wandered out of his room, heading to the bathroom at first. He stalled as he passed Kyungsoo’s door, which was standing about halfway open, much more than it usually was. The light was on inside and Chanyeol had walked through the doorway before he even actually realized that he was doing it.

Kyungsoo had looked up with a smile, almost like he’d been expecting Chanyeol to come by. He’d just rested his hand on the empty half of his bed and Chanyeol had shuffled over and slid back between Kyungsoo’s sheets.

Every since that first night, Chanyeol doesn’t even bother going to his own room to sleep. If he’d thought that his first night in Kyungsoo’s apartment had been the best sleep in years, it was nothing compared to how deeply he sleeps in Kyungsoo’s bed with Kyungsoo’s hand in his hair. 

\---

Chanyeol’s not aware that he’s been with Kyungsoo for two months until Kyungsoo points it out, a week after the thunderstorm. A week of sleeping beside Kyungsoo in bed and a week of being fully aware of how he feels about Kyungsoo. 

They’re in the kitchen when Kyungsoo points it out, Kyungsoo washing the dishes while Chanyeol dries. 

“It only took two months to get over your fear of breaking the dishes,” Kyungsoo says with a smile to ease his words.

“The plates are uglier than the lamp,” Chanyeol jokes. He’s still not quite sure if he’s able to joke with Kyungsoo or if he’ll take it too seriously, but he’s reassured when Kyungsoo laughs and hands him a cup.

“It has been two months,” Kyungsoo finally says when they’re on the last two plates. “I promise I’m not going to push you,” he starts, passing the first plate to Chanyeol. “I’m just checking up on where you are. If you’ve thought about what kind of place you want to live,” he passes Chanyeol the second plate, then turns to lean his hip against the sink, “if you feel like meeting up with any of the people we’ve vetted?”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything as he dries the plate, his hands shaking when he sits it down. He stares at the plate on the counter. There’s still a bit of dried sauce on the edge.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo breathes out, resting a damp hand on Chanyeol’s wrist to still the shaking. “Chanyeol, look at me.”

It takes Chanyeol a second to look at Kyungsoo and a few more to actually meet his eyes. When he does, Kyungsoo’s look is unreadable.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says again, and if he keeps saying his name in that voice, Chanyeol worries he may cry. “I’m not going to be giving you away. You’ll always be welcome here, you have a job at the cafe for as long as you want.”

Would I get to listen to you breathe each night? Chanyeol doesn’t ask, knows the answer to. If he leaves he won’t get to keep Kyungsoo, not how he wants.

“I promise,” Kyungsoo says, “that we’ll be able to find somewhere that treats you right. I know you’ve been hurt but we really will find someone who cares about you.”

“Do you care about me?” Chanyeol finally asks, heart beating in his throat.

“Of course I do, Chanyeol, you know I do.” Kyungsoo’s face changes, back to that look that Chanyeol recognizes, when he catches Kyungsoo gazing down at him as they watch TV.

“Then,” Chanyeol says, “then I want to stay with you.” Then he kisses Kyungsoo, hands sliding into Kyungsoo’s hair and settling there, thumbs resting against Kyungsoo’s temples. Kyungsoo is still, but he’s not pulling away and Chanyeol can feel his tail give a tentative twitch. Then suddenly he is.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, and immediately his tail stops. Kyungsoo sounds concerned. “I’m the first person in a while to take you in. You can’t be sure…”

“I am,” Chanyeol says. “I love you and I am.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and Chanyeol pulls his hands from Kyungsoo’s hair and turns, almost runs to his room. The guest room. When he gets there he locks the door for the first time.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo calls through the door. “Chanyeol, can we talk?”

“I need a minute,” Chanyeol lies. What he needs is a lifetime. This time he’s sure that Kyungsoo’s going to make him leave, even if it’s just sending it to ‘a nice family who will care about him.’ He doesn’t want Kyungsoo to throw him away, too.

It’s past midnight by the time Chanyeol finally leaves the room. He’s changed into the clothes that Kyungsoo had given him that first night and the jacket he’d been wearing the past two months. He doesn’t want to take it, but he figures he can find some way to get it back to Kyungsoo after he grabs one from a shelter.

Chanyeol makes sure to keep his elbows and tail to himself as he sneaks to the door. Kyungsoo’s asleep on the couch when he passes by. He fell asleep sitting up, his head leaning on one hand. Chanyeol allows himself just a moment to take Kyungsoo in, but the other lets out a huff of breath that has Chanyeol rushing away.

He stuffs his feet into his shoes, crushing down the backs with his heels. He slips out of the door and makes sure to close it softly behind him.

It’s not hard to get back to his old alley. He’s pleased to find that no one has taken over the space, but that may be because it’s not in a wind break. He settles against the wall and pulls his hood over his head, resolving to find a new spot the next day. Right now he just wants to sleep and forget about the fact that he’ll probably never see Kyungsoo again.

\---

Chanyeol wakes up cold and sore and alone. He squeezes his eyes shut, like maybe if he doesn’t open them he can just go back to sleep and forget again that he’s back here, somewhere he had almost believed he’d escaped.

Someone clears their throat and his eyes pop open on their own accord.

For a second he thinks he’s dreaming, or maybe he got too cold in the middle of the night and is hallucinating from a fever, because surely he’s not looking at Kyungsoo right now.

But he is. Kyungsoo is kneeling down in front of him. The backpack is sitting between his knees and there’s a large paper cup with a hot sleeve and a lid held in both of his hands.

“You forgot this,” Kyungsoo says, nodding down at the backpack. He holds out the cup. “It’s too cold for you to be out like this.”

Chanyeol can’t talk, can’t take his eyes off of Kyungsoo’s face, but he reaches out and grabs the cup from Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo nods at him and Chanyeol takes a drink. He’s not expecting the hot chocolate, even though he should. He also supposes that he should have expected Kyungsoo to check the alley to find him. Maybe he’d hoped that Kyungsoo would have realized that he didn’t want to deal with this, didn’t want to have to live through Kyungsoo sending him away.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol finally says, the words forcing their way through his throat somehow, even though he feels like it’s closing in on itself. “I don’t need the backpack, though. I’m okay.”

“You’re right,” Kyungsoo says, “you don’t need it.”

Chanyeol closes his eyes and wills Kyungsoo to just leave him alone to cry into the hot chocolate.

“You don’t need it because you have everything you need at home. Which is where you’re going to come. With me.”

Chanyeol opens his eyes and stares. And keeps staring until Kyungsoo wraps his hands around Chanyeol’s, which are still holding onto the paper cup.

Finally, Kyungsoo leans in and kisses him, quickly, just once.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo says after he pulls away. “I was worried that you’d fixated on me. Or that you were somehow reading me and reacting like you thought I wanted you to.”

Chanyeol looks down at Kyungsoo’s hands covering his, then looks back up.

“You?”

“It’s quiet without you,” Kyungsoo says. “Your shoes were gone and I realized that you left and I knew that the apartment wouldn’t be right without you.”

“You want to keep me?” Chanyeol asks.

“I want to keep you,” Kyungsoo says, “If you’ll let me.”

Chanyeol nods so enthusiastically that one of his ears fold over and Kyungsoo laughs, his mouth heart-shaped, as he reaches out to fix it.

“Come on home,” he says, “I think it’s time for a bit more _juk_.

 

 

\---

Chanyeol hums as he walks back to Tails, the box of paper towels that he’d had to make a run for held securely in his hands. He almost walks right past the alleyway a few blocks from the store, but just as he steps past he sees perked up dog ears disappear behind a dumpster.

He takes a step back.

“Hello?” He calls out. The owner of the ears doesn’t answer, but Chanyeol can hear the shuffling of feet. He takes a few steps down and the shuffling stops. “It’s okay,” he says, “I just want to talk to you.”

The ears pop back out, followed by the rest of a dog hybrid. The hybrid’s eyes are droopy on the outsides, but defiant as he stares at Chanyeol.

“Hi,” Chanyeol says. He shifts the box to his hip and holds out his hand. The hybrid stares at it for a second before taking it in his own. His fingers are long, but his grip is tentative. “I’m Chanyeol.”

“Baekhyun,” the hybrid says after a second of hesitation.

“Hi Baekhyun,” Chanyeol smiles. “Listen,” he continues. “I work at a cafe and I was just heading there right now. If you want to come with me I can buy you a meal.”

Baekhyun looks wary, and Chanyeol shifts the box back in front of him. “I get it,” Chanyeol says. “You can just come with me and check the place out if you want. Leave any time you want.”

After a second, Baekhyun nods. “Okay.” he says, taking another step towards Chanyeol. “I’m holding you to the free meal.” Chanyeol’s surprised by the sass, but it makes him laugh as he turns around to continue on to the cafe. He starts humming again and, after a few seconds, Baekhyun joins in. It’s nice, Chanyeol thinks, and he thinks about the empty room in their apartment and how they could use a little more noise at home.


End file.
